The Last Chance
by Nyaar
Summary: Spoilers up to Words and Deeds 3x11, 3x15 promo and some theories. House and Wilson had a talk and House made him promise all would stay between them. No slash.


**Notes:** I thought about this after seeing 3x15 promo. Spoilers to Words and Deeds (3x11) and gessworks with 3x14, 3x15 and later spoilers. I don't know if this is going to happen but I know there's pretty much theories pointing at this. It's unbetaed, but English-corrected by Kamapon. Thanks dear :

House was pacing into his office like a caged animal when I sat down beside his desk. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk, but yet he never wanted to talk when it came to serious stuff. And this was indeed serious.

The fact he didn't run away from me as he always did whenever he felt I was going to lecture him, was creating an awkward moment.

- Sit down, please. You're going to wear out the carpet - I sighed. He stopped in front of me for a moment and I read in the wrinkles on his face that he preferred going to Hell than staying here with me and talk. My eyes followed him to his chair, but he didn't look at me.

- It's my problem - He said after a moment of silence, stubbornly turned to his monitor.

- It's my problem, too. I write the prescriptions - I reminded him.

- Then I'll find somebody else to write them - House frowned deeply, and I shook my head holding back a sigh. I'd never know how he would manage to change the meaning in my words like that.

- Don't be a fool. We're talking about your life here, not about who's gonna make pancakes for you tomorrow morning.

- Exactly.

I raised a hand to my face and rubbed my eyes for a moment, thoughtful. If I wanted to end this conversation in good terms I had to change my tactics. I hoped rational facts would work with him that time too.

- Your liver is starting to fail and kidneys are next if we don't do something soon. Vicodine is not killing you today but tomorrow is totally a different thing... You have to let us do something, House, we can find alternatives.

My little argument made him look at me at least, and I almost shivered because of the resentment that flashed on his eyes.

- Let me guess. Cuddy's gonna use her wonderful "you own me" power to force me into rehab again and then she'd put me on a plane to some kind of exotic country where I could get fucked by alternative therapies. Thanks, but I prefer dying alone.

- House... - I tried to say something but my mouth went dry because of his serious words. I shook my head and shifted my legs. My eyes wandered round the office, and the idea of losing him again made me shallow. The other two times he didn't ask for death, but this one was different. This time we couldn't do as much to save him as himself, and he wouldn't cooperate.

Greg stirred angrily on his chair and put his long legs over the table, resting the cane on his lap. His eyes were fixed on me, and I realised he regretted telling me his concerns at the balcony.

- It's been some time since I wanted to run some blood and urine tests on you - I whispered almost in a sigh - but I didn't know how to tackle the problem. Then, Tritter appeared and...

- And suddenly you didn't want to run them anymore¿did you? - His accusation cut me like a knife, and I stared at him.

- No. And you didn't want me around either unless I carried your drugs, so we're at hand.

He chuckled, scathing.

- You talk about the only thing that relieves my pain like if it's cocaine to get high.

- You take that pills like sweets, or worse, swallow them with whiskey - we stared to each other for a while until I realised the conversation was going out of my hands - House, we're not leaving you in the lurch.

- Not this time? My, thank you! - He waved his arms pulling faces.

- God, you're... - My hand reached my face again and hid my eyes the time I needed to calm down. The discussion about his life had turned into ebb and flowed about the remains of our friendship, and it felt like House had put his bit coming to me with his concerns and I was indebted.

Greg have not ever been a man willing to trust anybody, even less after the infarct; Cuddy and Stacy did the right thing, but he never forgave the first and still felt bitter about the second, even more than about me.

I remembered that night at jail, when I decided to believe that his apology was sincere not only for my sake but for the conspiracy sparkle on his eyes. In spite of that, sometimes I found myself thinking he hadn't forgiven me making that pact with Tritter. I betrayed him. Yes, I sold him to the police. But, didn't he betray me when he left me to my fate when I was only trying to protect him? I had no alternative, for him and everybody else.

I sighed, and then made my mind to do my best at getting things right with him. This was our last chance, I felt it, and I wasn't going to screw it up.

- House. _Greg_. - I called him by his name and he looked at me by instinct before brooding again over his cane - I couldn't be there, at the infarct, that Tritter thing was shit... and now there's only two things left to do; I can go away and we can pretend we didn't have this conversation or you can trust me and search with me for solutions instead of culprits.

As neither of us wanted to exchange glances, I leaned better on my chair and watched him brooding silently my words. I was seeing him daily and still I noticed his loose of weight. Jaundice wasn't present yet but it wouldn't take long. House knew this too, because he checked on his eyes whenever he looked in a mirror.

He gave me a start when he beat the table with the cane and suddenly he was on his feet, pacing again. Maybe his leg hurt. Maybe he needed to think.

After some comings and goings he stopped by my side, leaning heavily on the cane.

- Why do you always worry so much?

- 'Cause I'm your friend - I shrugged, trying hard to not show him I was happy about the new chance he gave us.

- You love worrying.

- Yes, that too. You know I need you needing me to stay alive.

- I knew you had an ugly reason to carry on prescribing me.

He resumed his pace from the bookcase to the door, lost in his thoughts. I rubbed soft circles on my temples and closed my eyes for a moment, listening to his footsteps. My head hurt like every time we had a serious talk.

- You're not going to tell anybody.

- Cuddy might help...

- No - he said sharply looking at me over his shoulder - Only you and me.

I moistened my lips, thoughtful.

- She will notice that something's wrong when she finds out you're not taking vicodine.

House frowned clearly annoyed, but I didn't know if it was about Cuddy or about having to try new pills out of necessity. Surely it was about both.

- You'll give me other pills and I'll put them on a vicodin bottle. I won't let her to take samples, don't worry - he waved a hand and leaned on the table - Nobody would know. Promise?

I couldn't help but smile at his arrogant childish petition, and the atmosphere relaxed a lot.

- Yeah. Promise...


End file.
